


Love in the Woodshop

by jashinist_feminist



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dorks in Love, F/F, Fem!Sasori - Freeform, Friends With Benefits, Girls Kissing, High School, School, Teenagers, same age au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jashinist_feminist/pseuds/jashinist_feminist
Summary: Sasori is completely unimpressed when assigned Sakura as a tablemate in woodwork class.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Sasori, Sasori/Konan (FWB)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first ever SasoSaku!
> 
> Big thank you to Kitty for inspiring this fic with the 'woodshop lesbians' prompt on Twitter and to the SasoSakuMonth hosts for this event and giving me the opportunity to write it!
> 
> In case you are wondering...Mela San is the Sandaime Kazekage, Deidara and Ino are half-siblings in this au, and everyone has been aged up or down to fit different peer groups!  
> Also...I really feel very strongly that there is not enough wlw content out there! As someone who is wlw, I love to create content that reflects my experiences and those of other girls like me. Due to the lack of effective female characters, this means I may genderbend characters <3
> 
> Due to my strong personal convictions, I wish to stress very firmly that I do not approve of adult/minor relations, including teacher/student relations, and none will take place in this fic. Characters have been aged up/down to ensure their relations are appropriate.

Hiruko rumbled to a quiet purr as Sasori brought the motorbike to a stop. She flicked off the ignition and swung one boot over the seat, securing the motorbike to her favourite post with a lock. The last thing she wanted was for a little punk like Hidan to drive off screeching on it.

Sasori pulled off her helmet, shaking free her short red hair in the morning sunlight, before heading towards the common room to claim her locker. Last year, she’d been kept waiting in traffic on the first day, which meant that she’d arrived aggravatingly late, and had to claim one of the lockers low to the ground. Even for someone petite like Sasori, it had been a pain to have to wait until everyone had passed by and then squat on the floor to reach her stuff.

She passed by her favourite teacher, Mrs. Karura, as she herded some of the year sevens into the school. Sasori had always had a soft spot for her.

Sasori walked past the other students, ignoring Hidan and Kakuzu as they already openly brawled on the grass, while Deidara and Kisame cheered them on. Konan nodded cordially to Sasori as she arrived at their common room, grey eyes hidden behind dark glasses. Konan was a bit of a friend as far as Sasori was concerned. Whenever Sasori didn’t want to go home to her grandmother, it was usually Konan’s room she holed up in. Konan’s foster father didn’t mind, and Sasori happily dozed away on Konan’s chest during the dark hours.

Sasori’s schedule was waiting for her on her desk. She scooped it up, nodding with pleasure at the timetabling for biology and chemistry, and at art, although she hoped that she wouldn’t have to share classes with Deidara again this year.

Sasori glanced at the last class, woodwork, which she had selected to compliment her art studies. That class was just at the end of the day, meaning that if Sasori had a free period beforehand, she wouldn’t be able to leave early and would have to wait around.

Sasori sighed heavily.

It turns out that Deidara was in nearly all Sasori’s classes, which Deidara seemed significantly happier about than Sasori did. Sasori had to suffer through Deidara wanting to make bonfires with matchsticks and the Bunsen burners, instead of creating the blue crystals they would be measuring and writing a report on for the first set of homework.

At lunch, Hidan begged and pleaded with Sasori for a turn on Hiruko, only silencing when Konan slapped him around the back of the head with Kakuzu’s English textbook.

Sasori realised she was asking herself once again why she bothered coming to this place. Her grandmother insisted, claiming that Sasori needed her education, but there was nothing Sasori couldn’t teach herself from the internet. At least she only had one more year remaining…

Sasori spent the free period before the last class in the common room, trying to catch up on the work that Deidara had messed up. It was significantly harder, given that Sasori didn’t have the Bunsen burner or equipment to regrow blue crystals and that the results she had gathered earlier with Deidara were awful, but at least it would be something.

The bell rang, and Sasori clamoured upright, boots stamping as she hurried down to the technology department.

Entering the workshop, there was no sign of Deidara. Sasori exhaled, and glanced around at the class instead. There was a quiet hum, and the scent of sawdust, freshly cut wood, and sharp polish filled the air. Sasori inhaled deeply, feeling her creativity thrumming through her veins. She collected the marking criteria for the final project, and the schedule for the projects for the next term.

Sasori knew exactly what she wanted to make during her last year. This had been one of her dreams during the past few terms, and each time she had to pass over the project as it was dismissed as ‘too complex’ for a student. But now Sasori was in her final year, nothing was going to stop her. She would even order and pay for the materials if it came to it.

Sasori selected a table at the back of the class, by the open window which faced out onto the school field, away from the rabble rousers, the overly eager teacher pleasers. She settled down with her workbook, and began to sketch out her project, even as Mr. Yamato began to introduce himself and the rest of the class.

The door swung open as Sasori was mid-sketch, and Mr. Yamato mid-speech.

“I’m sorry I’m so late, Mr. Yamato. My schedule had several conflicts and I had to go to timetabling to have it corrected,” announced a pink-haired girl.

Mr. Yamato nodded. “That’s all right, Sakura, it’s lovely to have you here. Why don’t you take a seat next to…”

_Not here_ , Sasori gave Mr. Yamato her most miserable resting bitch face that Konan would be proud of.

That didn’t deter Mr. Yamato.

“Next to Sasori!”

Sasori seethed as Sakura perched across the table from her. Immediately Sakura gave her a big smile, that Sasori slapped down with an even more miserable resting bitch face. Sakura did a double take, green eyes glassy with hurt. She laid out her schedule on the table in front of her, turning to focus back on Mr. Yamato as he introduced the class.

Sasori sulked, glowering at the lack of space she now had to work on at the table. The girl had even thrown her bag over the table as well, instead of putting it on the floor, and it was a gross shade of bubblegum pink that Sasori would burn before she wore it. Sasori peered further inside, wondering what kind of crap this girl was hauling about, spotting various pink chapsticks, a pink notebook, pens. How dull.

“The rules are, on each table, you’ll be sharing vices and clamps, there’s two attached to each table, but some of them are a bit old and rusty, so you might want to buddy up. I’ve been on and on at the headmistress about getting these fixed but it seems all our budget goes to the sciences…”

Sasori glanced at the vice beside her. It seemed to be in good working condition, but the vice beside Sakura looked old and rusty. Sasori would be damned before she let her use it. She inched her chair closer to the vice, and leant over it protectively.

Mr. Yamato droned on, and then let them get to work by mind-mapping out various ideas for projects and what skills they wanted to work on for the next term. Sasori’s was practically done already, and so she flipped the page over, and began anew. There was no harm in doing extra.

Sakura bent across the table, and gave a gentle smile. “I haven’t seen you before.”

She was not Sasori’s type. Not as a friend, as a girlfriend, or a crush. She was pink and girly, tucked inside a red checked flannel shirt over a light pink vest top underneath and bootcut jeans. A purple friendship bracelet was wrapped around her wrist, and she smelled of some sickly sweet flowery perfume.

_Basic bitch,_ thought Sasori. She could never hold a torch to someone like Konan, who moved with the grace and confidence of a woman ten years older, didn’t ask stupid questions or throw away smiles so casually. Or Mrs. Karura, with her gentle curves, soft hands and genuine care for others. Or even, and Sasori’s heart began to beat faster, Mela San, the local MP…now she was perfection…

“Don’t get used to it,” retorted Sasori.

Sakura’s mouth quivered. “What do you mean?”

“I picked this table for myself,” bristled Sasori, deciding to cut to the chase. “I picked it because I have a large scale project I want to complete, not share with some random girl.”

“But Mr. Yamato told me to sit here!”

“I don’t care what Mr. Yamato said,” said Sasori. “If you’re looking for a class buddy, go sit with Rock Lee.”

Sakura glanced sideways at the boy with bushy brows and a mullet haircut. “Oh…oh no.”

“What?” snapped Sasori.

“He’s crushed on me for years,” mumbled Sakura.

“Now’s your chance.”

Sakura swallowed shyly. “I don’t like boys. It’s hard to…tell them that.”

Sasori felt her ears prick up at that interesting tidbit of information. Nonetheless, this bitch was still at her table and trying to be her friend, and Sasori didn’t need any more friends to try and keep off Hiruko. But at the same time, there was no way she wanted to start a fight here and now, and potentially get kicked out the class when she had yet to begin her masterpiece. Mr. Yamato always seemed to cast a critical eye over Sasori…many of the teachers did…

“Fine,” said Sasori, grabbing her pencil case from where she had spread out across the table and dumping it next to her book. “You stay on your side, and I’ll keep to mine. Use your own vice, and I’ll use mine. I don’t want you talk to me or distracting me while I’m creating my masterpiece, and I won’t speak to you while you…make whatever it is you want to make.”

Sakura lifted her nose stubbornly. “That suits me just fine.”

Sasori bent low back over her work, and then peered through the chunks of red hair at Sakura. Sakura’s face fell when she realised that Sasori had assigned her the rusty vice. Sasori simply grinned.

* * *

Sakura felt unsettled when she left the woodwork class. Sasori was the first out of the door, there was no waiting around for her. Sakura followed at a more leisurely pace, her boots clacking on the tiles of the hallway. Outside, across the lawn, Sasori had already unlocked Hiruko, and was pulling a helmet over her red hair.

She did have pretty hair, Sakura thought to herself. Although it was a shame about her snarky attitude.

Sasori revved the motorbike, and speeded out through the hordes of students.

“Please Sasori, let me have a turn!” cried Hidan, standing on top of the bin.

Sasori’s response was to rev the engine louder, and soon she was gone, in a blur of black and red.

Sakura shook her head, while Hidan clamoured down from the bin. Deidara kicked the bin as Hidan was still climbing, and Hidan tumbled to the ground.

“You little shit!” cussed Hidan. “I’ll kill you blondie!”

“Try it bitch!” shouted Deidara.

Hidan and Deidara were upon each other in seconds, as a crowd gathered to cheer them on. Sakura shook her head, knowing that one of them was going to get hurt sooner or later, but she wanted no part in it. Although she didn’t like the thought of them hurting each other much.

Sakura caught the bus home with Ino, and Ino spent the entire bus ride tying a daisy chain around Sakura’s wrist, while detailing what she had learnt in her psychology class. Sakura and Ino shared biology together, and picked seats together earlier that day.

“How was woodwork?” asked Ino. “I’m surprised you picked that as your fourth subject, I didn’t really know woodwork was your thing.”

“My timetable clashed with my other classes,” explained Sakura. “I was late because I had to get it sorted out. But Mr. Yamato is really nice and you never know when you will need these skills!”

“Any nice people in the class?” asked Ino.

Sakura turned to glance outside the window, at the road. There was a black blur on a motorbike up ahead. Sakura wondered if it was Sasori, but doubted it. When Sasori had left the school grounds, she already had to be heading up to 40mph.

“There was this super bitchy girl,” admitted Sakura, watching the black blur fade into the distance. “Mr. Yamato asked me to sit with her, I think he thought she was lonely. But she was so mean! I only said hello.”

“Ew, yuck,” Ino wrinkled her nose. “Well, you’ve got knives and things in there, haven’t you? Saw her head off next time.”

Sakura snorted with laughter. “I’m not sawing someone’s head off!”

“What’s this about sawing heads off?” Hidan eagerly peered over the seats. He had a black eye from Deidara’s punches, and his shirt was dirty, so he’d ripped it off and thrown it out the window.

“Nothing, Hidan, go back to being stupid,” instructed Ino.

“I’m not stupid, bitch!” insisted Hidan. “I got an A last term in English class-”

“That was because you did the project with Kakuzu, dumbass,” retorted Ino. “He carries an extra braincell for you.”

“I got a C in my art class!”

“Because you did the project with Deidara,” chimed in Sakura.

“I got an A+ in my religious studies!”

“Because Konan took pity on you and rewrote your essays to have proper spelling and grammar!” added Deidara. “And we would have gotten an A if you hadn’t eaten half the art project!”

“I was hungry ok?” insisted Hidan. “I’ll throw you out the bus window, blondie bitch-”

“Try it, I’ll take your fat ass and your empty head with me, yeah!” Deidara taunted.

“Yeah, see you later, both of you!” waved Ino, as Deidara and Hidan resumed their brawl at the back of the bus. She turned back to Sakura, resting her hand on the seat in front of them. She wore a pink friendship bracelet around her wrist, identical to the purple one that Sakura wore. “So what are you going to do about Miss. Bitch?”

Sakura chewed her lips. “Maybe she was just unhappy about being back at school. I thought she looked kind of sad. And it’s Mr. Yamato’s class, I don’t want to kick up a fuss and potentially upset him too…I guess I’ll just have to see how I get on with her. Perhaps she’ll warm up to me?”

“Perhaps,” said Ino.

“She left me with this useless rusty vice,” stated Sakura. “I can’t use that for the rest of term, surely she’ll be a bit more friendly soon…”

The bus rolled to a stop and Ino climbed up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” said Ino, as Deidara untangled himself from Hidan.

“I’ll see you! Take care!” waved Sakura.

Deidara followed after his younger half-sister, giving her a shove to get off the bus first. Ino shoved him back, harder, and Deidara squealed. The bus drove off as they insulted each other, matching high ponytails standing on end in their rage.

Sakura snuggled back further against the seat, warm September sunlight playing across her face. She wriggled her toes inside her boots, knowing she’d be able to stomp through all the leaves soon. Sakura herself was a spring baby, named after the cherry blossoms that blew past the window after her birth, but she always liked the autumn leaves for crunching through. Ino’s parents were florists, and always made such beautiful bouquets every season. On her birthday, Ino presented her with a swirl of pink blossoms, and when it was autumn and Sakura’s parents wanted a centrepiece for the table for the season, Ino presented her with flowers in swirls of russet reds, sunburnt oranges, and flecks of pine leaves.

It struck her then. That was what Sasori’s hair reminded her of.

Autumn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura's fascination with Sasori begins to develop...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to carry on with this fic! I love the wlw feels it gives me <3

Sasori never really bothered to speak to her grandmother in the evenings. They had little in common and nothing to say to each other, so what was the point? Sasori usually holed up in her room, and if she wanted a change of scene, Konan’s bed was the perfect retreat.

There was a plate of cookies laying on the side, that Sasori ignored. They were for children and Sasori wasn’t a little girl anymore. Granny Chiyo would be out in the garden with Great-Uncle Ebizo, presumably fishing. Sasori didn’t want to bother joining them, so she kicked off her boots, and flopped onto the sofa. She pulled out her mobile, and started to scroll through Instagram. Sasori’s Instagram mainly worked as a gallery for her to take pictures of her art. She didn’t post that many selfies, unless she wanted to show off a particularly nice flannel shirt she’d picked up, or a new pair of boots.

There were plenty of pictures of Hiruko too. Sasori was rather proud of her motorbike.

Deidara’s ugly selfies appeared on the dashboard. Deidara posted daily with all kinds of rubbish, and Sasori was certain she had only followed him out of pity. She scrolled past them, without offering him a single pity-like.

Curiously, Sasori tapped in Sakura’s name, to see what would come up. An icon of Sakura smiling at the camera appeared. She clicked on it, and then huffed with annoyance. Sakura’s profile was set to private. Sasori wouldn’t demean herself by requesting to follow her, and so she tapped away from it, scrolling to look through Mrs. Karura’s pictures instead. By virtue of being a family friend, Sasori had been allowed to follow Karura’s personal account. She smiled to herself, at a lovely picture of Karura wrapped in a cashmere dress that hugged her shapely legs as she enjoyed an afternoon tea.

Sasori ignored all the pictures of Karura’s boring husband and ugly kids, enjoying the photos of her summer holiday immensely, where Karura sunned herself on a lounger and relaxed in a tankini.

It was times like these when Sasori wondered what things would be like if her mother was still here.

With a sigh, Sasori tossed away her phone and reached for her homework. She could hear Granny Chiyo and Great-Uncle Ebizo murmuring as they arrived back in the kitchen. The smell of fried fish soon wafted through the house, and Sasori wrinkled her nose.

There was an itch, and Sasori knew she needed to be out of here.

She collected her helmet, and left her homework on the table so that Chiyo would know she had been home.

Sasori screeched away on Hiruko into the autumn evening.

* * *

Jiraiya seemed to have an open door policy when it came to Konan’s friends. Sasori likely suspected it was to do with the fact that Konan could simply bat her eyes at her foster father and he would do her bidding. Either way, it worked in Sasori’s favour.

Jiraiya answered the door, dressed in a ridiculous pair of frog patterned pyjamas. For someone who claimed to be a lady’s man, he definitely seemed to know how to turn a woman right off.

“Here for Konan?” asked Jiraiya, jovial eyes lighting up. “I didn’t know you were coming over. Does your Granny know you’re here?”

“Sure,” lied Sasori.

“She’s upstairs in her room with the door shut, you’ll have to knock. If you were one of the lads I’d make her open it, but since you’re not, I’ll let you get on with your girl talk.”

Sasori raised an eyebrow as she turned away from Jiraiya.

 _I give your daughter several orgasms a night with the door firmly locked_.

Sasori lightly knocked, before pressing against the handle. Konan sat in an armchair, with her legs folded beneath her, folding away, creating a paper crane. Paper cranes littered the floor around her, across the window pane, over the bedside table.

“Is this a new obsession?” asked Sasori, taking the sight all in.

“Someone once said that if you created a thousand paper cranes, you would be granted a gifted by the gods,” replied Konan, her fingers dancing over the forming creation.

“Oh? And how many do you have?”

“Two hundred and twenty three,” replied Konan, her eyes flitting up from the folding, her hands never ceasing.

“You’re counting?” asked Sasori.

“I’ve got to get to one thousand.”

“What will you wish for?”

“I can’t say, or it won’t come true,” Konan finished the crane, and laid it to rest on the floor beneath her feet. She was barefoot, her toes painted orange red, dancing over the white wooden floorboards.

Sasori perched on the corner of Konan’s bed, inhaling the familiar floral smell of her friend. Konan’s school bag lay in the corner of the room, beside a picture frame that had fallen down and shattered. Konan hadn’t bothered, or maybe couldn’t bear, to tidy it away or restore it to its proper place.

“How did you like woodwork?” asked Konan.

“I liked woodwork,” said Sasori. “I don’t like the girl that Yamato dumped on my table.”

“Oh?”

“Basic bitch,” said Sasori, though now the words seemed callous and cruel. All the girl had done was sit at his table when told to do so by a teacher, and there was no way that Mr. Yamato could have known that Sasori preferred to be alone. “I picked the table because I wanted it for myself, now I have to talk to people.”

“At least you don’t have to sit next to Hidan for Religious Studies,” pointed out Konan.

Sasori grimaced. “Good point.”

“What don’t you like about her?” asked Konan.

“She seems…sickly sweet. Too nice. Too normal,” said Sasori. “It’s irritating.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing,” said Konan.

“Hmm,” said Sasori. “I’m not there to make friends.”

“Who said you had to? All I’m saying is it might be more peaceful for you to just ignore her and work in silence,” said Konan.

“I guess that’s what I’ll have to do,” said Sasori. “I did claim the non-rusty vice, that worked in my favour.”

“You’re wicked, Sasori,” Konan clamoured out of her armchair, and then settled on the bed opposite her. The mattress sagged, and Sasori found herself several inches closer towards her friend. “Who is this girl, anyway?”

“Apparently her name is Sakura.”

“Aww, Itachi’s brother’s little girlfriend,” said Konan. “Be nice.”

“Itachi’s brother’s little girlfriend?” Sasori raised an eyebrow. “She said she didn’t like boys.”

“Maybe they broke up,” suggested Konan. “It can happen.”

“Hmm,” mused Sasori.

There was a faraway, misty look in Konan’s grey eyes. Sometimes, she reminded Sasori of a rainy winter day, a cold February morning. They were sitting closely on the bed now, knees brushing together. It was just when Konan seemed as though she might slip away through the misty veil of rain that she drifted through the last inches between them, dipped her head forwards and kissed Sasori, rooting herself firmly in the present.

Sasori reached for her, pulling at the straps on her tank top, until they both tumbled sideways onto the single mattress.

Sasori knew what Konan liked, and Konan knew what Sasori liked.

Within moments, they had lost themselves on a slick ride of pleasure, reminding themselves that they were here, that they could feel, and that neither was alone.

* * *

Sakura’s morning started bright and early, with blueberry pancakes served up by her father, and her lunch handed to her by her mother. She washed and dressed, and then pulled on a pair of sneakers to walk down to the bus stop. Her bag banged against her hip, as she waited for it to arrive.

Sakura clamoured on, surrounded by sleepy school children. The bus rumbled out of her village, past a field full of sunflowers, and into the village where it had left Ino and Deidara the last day. They both climbed on, Deidara’s cheek sporting a cut from his tussle with Hidan. They seemed quieter and more subdued in the morning, and Sakura moved her bag onto her lap so that Ino could sit down.

As they reached the town where their school was located, Sakura spotted Sasori, weaving in and out of the traffic on Hiruko, while Konan’s car followed behind at a more leisurely pace.

“Why won’t she ever let us have a turn?” lamented Hidan sadly.

“Because you’d crash it, you halfwit!” retorted Deidara.

“Yeah, well, you’d blow it up!” added Hidan triumphantly.

“Shut up, will you? Some of us are sleeping,” Shikamaru roused from his nap against the window of the bus.

“Shut up pineapple bitch,” Hidan tossed his homework straight at Shikamaru’s head.

“Hidan, that was your homework,” stated Deidara.

“I don’t give a fucking shit.”

“Hidan, you’ve now lost your homework,” said Deidara.

“Well…Kakuzu still has his,” Hidan beamed.

Sakura gazed ahead, as Sasori overtook several cars in one swift movement. She seemed surprisingly confident when it came to handling her motorbike. Briefly, Sakura wondered how it would feel to ride behind her, arms wrapped around Sasori’s waist, watching the world go past, with the wind in her hair.

They climbed off the bus, and by the time they arrived at school, Sasori had locked her motorbike up, and Konan had parked her car.

“I can’t wait until we drive ourselves to school,” sighed Ino. “You’d pick me up, wouldn’t you, Sakura?”

“You turn seventeen first,” said Sakura.

“Your house is furthest away,” replied Ino.

“Get Deidara to drive you,” retorted Sakura.

“Dei has as much hope of getting his licence as Hidan does as asking Konan on a date, and I wouldn’t get in a car driven by Deidara even if I had to walk twenty miles in the pouring rain,” replied Ino.

Sakura threw back her head and laughed, realising that Ino had a point. “Nothing to stop you from turning around to come and get me.”

“Are you going to pay me petrol money?”

“You know that I would!”

Sakura sat through biology class with Ino, on the table that she had claimed as theirs, before it was time for her free period. She went to her locker in the common room for sixth formers, spotting a familiar redhead.

Strangely, she seemed to notice Sasori more and more since their meeting yesterday. The red of her hair…it just seemed to catch the light and draw Sakura’s eye. The way Sasori moved, quickly, concisely, made it seem to flicker.

Hidan marched straight up to a locker, and opened it. He growled, realising it was full. He opened the next, and the next, before finding Sasori’s locker.

Hidan shrugged, and grabbed half of Sasori’s stuff, before shoving it in the locker below.

“Hey!” shrieked Sasori.

“I need a locker!” protested Hidan.

“That is my locker,” snapped Sasori. “I picked it.”

“It’s high up,” taunted Hidan. “It’s not like you need it.”

“It’s not a matter of what I need, it’s what I want,” Sasori snapped again. “I want that locker. Put my stuff back.”

“My need is greater than yours,” repeated Hidan.

“Get your crap out my locker,” spat Sasori.

“Get your crap out _my_ locker,” sang Hidan gleefully.

Sakura simply couldn’t walk past and let the argument continue. Hidan towered over Sasori, an angry red seething little tomato, who had no chance of successfully shoving Hidan away from her locker. Hidan was definitely taller and larger than Sakura too, but Sakura knew that people often had a tendency to…underestimate her.

“Hey!” barked Sakura. “You leave Sasori’s locker alone!”

Sasori turned and glowered at Sakura, her half-lidded eyes widening. Sakura couldn’t focus on her right now, her eyes turning on Hidan, who had a manic grin across his face.

“Hey, hey, Sasori! Looks like you’ve got yourself a new girlfriend!” taunted Hidan.

Sakura aimed her punch at Hidan’s abdomen, so that he doubled over and howled in pain. While he was down, she aimed a kick at his buttocks, so that he stumbled even more, and as he staggered, Sakura shoved him backwards into the lockers. Sakura gave him another push, so his bottom sagged into the locker he had tried to stuff all of Sasori’s stuff inside of.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” yelped Hidan.

Sakura’s green eyes flittered up to Sasori.

Sasori’s expression was cold, and her mouth a hard line. “You’ve squashed all of my books.”

Sakura opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a steady clapping of a single pair of hands.

Konan herself rested against the doorframe of the common room, orange painted nails clapping.

“Who is this girl, Sasori?” she asked. “Whoever she is, I love her. Please marry her.”

“I second that,” said Kakuzu, wrapping an arm around Konan’s shoulders, as they gazed approvingly at Hidan stuck in the locker.

“You bitches!” cried Hidan.

“Now it would be even better if we just…closed the locker,” suggested Konan, reaching over, and slamming the door in Hidan’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think its safe to say that Hidan got what he deserved, right? XD


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After shutting Hidan in a locker, will Sasori warm to Sakura?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its been a while since i updated anything, even at all! Lots has been happening...as you know there's a global pandemic going on, my family have been hit hard and my dad was hospitalised in ICU for several weeks with the virus! Scary stuff. But now i am back, hopefully posting a bit more frequently once more. :D
> 
> Also...there is some sasokona here...as you can probably tell they are FWB!

Sakura was curious to see how Sasori would react now that she had helped her reclaim her locker. She’d watched Sasori kick the already closed locker door on Hidan, where he released a yelp, before storming out of the common room, clutching her books to her chest. Sakura decided to leave too, lest she had to deal with an angry, escaped Hidan.

The library seemed like the safest bet, and Sakura quickly picked a desk tucked around a corner where no one would bother her. She didn’t know where Sasori would go.

Glancing at her schedule, she realised that she had woodwork at the end of class as well. She swallowed, hoping Sasori had appreciated her attempts to help her. Hidan was the class clown, and someone had to stand up to him, and Sakura just hoped she hadn’t embarrassed Sasori. Sakura knew when she blushed she turned as pink as her hair. It would be funny, maybe even cute, if Sasori turned as red as her hair.

Sakura chewed her lip, gazing out of the window. The warm sunlight filtered across her nose, and she wrinkled it, sneezed, before glancing back down at her work. She had passed several minutes simply daydreaming about the moody girl, and not her coursework. Sakura wanted to work hard at her A Levels as she knew that she wanted to study Medicine at university to become doctor. She knew that she had to keep her head down and study this year, and the next.

Sakura briefly wondered what Sasori wanted to do with her life. She had to be in the year above, since Sakura hadn’t seen her in any of her classes before, and cut school budgets meant combining two classes.

At lunch, Sakura ate with Ino and their group of friends. Her food seemed like cardboard, as thoughts raced through her mind. When the bell finally rang for woodwork, Sakura was almost relieved. She hurried down to the room, wanting to be there early due to the mix up with her timetable yesterday and to have the opportunity to make a good first impression.

To her surprise, Sasori waited outside the classroom, leaning against the wall, gazing through the lone window at the end of the corridor. Sunlight flitted through her red hair, so that it glowed auburn like the leaves outside.

“You’re early,” said Sakura.

She wasn’t expecting a response, but even offering Sasori the option of conversation seemed like the right thing to do.

“I don’t like to be late,” said Sasori. “I don’t like to wait either. Or keep others waiting.”

Even in the simple explanation, Sakura couldn’t help but sense a touch of sensitivity in her words. But then Sasori lifted her head, and it passed. Sasori had very dainty features, with lidded eyes that had longer lashes towards the corners of her eyes. Whenever she blinked, there was something very alluring about her.

Sakura swallowed, as her heart beat several times.

The bell rang again, and the door slammed open. Hoards of students teemed out, while Sasori and Sakura lay back pressed against the wall. She felt her arm brush against Sasori’s, and then when the students passed, Sasori hoisted her bag back up on her shoulder and marched inside, leaving Sakura to follow.

Sasori was wearing a plaid shirt today, with shorts, tights and another pair of boots. Sakura wanted to ask her where she bought her clothes from, and her boots. They were cool. But she doubted Sasori would ever tell her.

She sat opposite Sasori at the table they shared, and waited for Mr. Yamato to arrive.

Sasori worked silently throughout the class, and didn’t speak to Sakura. Sakura kept glancing sideways, wondering if Sasori’s grey-brown eyes had fallen on her. But they hadn’t. Sasori worked diligently, and ignored Sakura. All that Sakura could do was make use of the rusty vice that Sasori had assigned her, although she was very tempted to now fight Sasori for use of the decent one.

But that was a battle for another day.

Sasori was the first to leave the class, and Sakura watched her speed away on the motorbike, growing into a black dot on the horizon. She wondered where Sasori lived, what her family were like, what they ate for dinner, how they spent their time together in the evenings.

Sakura spent her evening watching a film with her father, quoting the cheesy lines, before picking up her phone. Ino had sent several messages, the group chat with Naruto and Sasuke was alive as Sasuke sent several pictures of Shiro licking Itachi, and Sakura smiled. She tapped in Sasori’s name to Facebook, and was unsurprised to find that Sasori did not even have a profile. She turned over to Instagram, and then found that Sasori’s profile was open.

Sakura scrolled through Sasori’s photos, gazing at various art projects. Many of them seemed to be tiny wooden puppets, that Sasori perched and posed in different positions. She seemed to have named them in the hashtags. A strange type of art.

But there was certainly talent for woodwork there.

* * *

“I think she’s cute,” taunted Konan. The blanket throw loosely covered her hips and legs, tangled with Sasori’s, as they both basked in the afterglow.

“Why,” demanded Sasori.

Konan tipped back her head, and laughed freely, one hand resting on her shaking belly. Sasori didn’t hear her laugh very often. “She shut Hidan in a locker.”

“It was a long time coming. Anyone could shut Hidan in a locker. Even I could shut Hidan in a locker if I wanted to.”

“So why didn’t you?” asked Konan, rolling back onto her side, and propping her head up on her hand.

“I wanted to get to class,” said Sasori, crossing her arms over her small breasts.

“You had a free period,” replied Konan.

“He’s huge, ok?” huffed Sasori. “And I’m tiny.”

“Fun-sized,” corrected Konan, reaching across and squeezing Sasori’s hip. “And…Sakura isn’t that much bigger than you.”

Sasori blustered red, and rolled over, taking the blanket throw with her. Konan reached across and tugged it back, curling closer around Sasori.

“I think you like her,” she whispered in Sasori’s ear, before nibbling along the lobe.

“I don’t like her,” said Sasori bluntly, even as she shuddered from the feel of Konan’s soft lips and the scrapping of her teeth against the sensitive lobe.

“I think you do,” Konan kissed Sasori’s cheek.

“Go to sleep, Konan,” said Sasori curtly.

“You definitely like her,” Konan snuggled her face against Sasori’s neck, and sighed sleepily. Sasori was silent, knowing that to add anymore words would simply be adding fuel to the fire. Konan was tired after their activities, and Sasori knew she liked to cuddle and rest. It would be better to let her fall silent and sleep.

Even if Sasori lay awake all night, at least Konan deserved some sleep.

* * *

Sakura spent the rest of the week working in silence opposite Sasori. Sasori worked diligently over her projects, following Mr. Yamato’s instructions while creating her own innovative twists. Sakura wanted to ask her about the things she was working on, and she wondered if the incident with Hidan had served to thaw Sasori out, but it seemed not to have done so. Sasori kept her red head down, although sometimes Sakura could swear she peeped under those long lashes back at her.

At the weekend, Sakura cycled along the road on her bike, wondering what it would be like to ride behind Sasori on her motorbike, arriving at the shopping centre where she worked part-time. Ino would be working in the floristry today, but Sakura, after many fruitless hours of handing out CVs and filling out online applications, actually worked in one of the bakeries.

Sakura thought the reason that she had the job was due to her ability to smile in the face of the most trying customers. Her most regular customer was surprisingly…Itachi. Itachi liked sweet things, and since Sakura had known him, was always spending his money, his parents’ money, on buying cakes and cookies.

Another one of her favourite customers was an elderly lady, who shuffled in to collect the same box of cookies nearly every day. When Sakura talked to her, she explained that it was for her granddaughter and they were her favourite. Sakura thought they must be very lucky to have such a close relationship.

The weekend made Sakura feel as if she was back on summer holidays again, but there was a crisp chill in the air during the mornings when she woke up. Monday rolled around quickly, and a routine began. It was another day of being ignored by Sasori. Sakura wound her piece of wood into the vice, but the rust meant she couldn’t squeeze it any tighter. Even if she wanted to, she would risk snapping the wood.

All that Sakura could really do was cut very carefully and slowly. But it was ridiculous, and the lines were far more jagged than they were meant to be.

“Just come over here and use my vice.”

Sakura glanced up.

Sasori stared at her, where she huddled over with a ruler and pencil, marking dimensions.

“What?”

“Just use my vice,” sighed Sasori. “Watching you struggle is painful.”

“I thought I was meant to stick to my side while you stuck to yours.”

“Well, now I am inviting you over.”

“Perhaps I don’t want to accept.”

“Then you’re only ruining your own work,” taunted Sasori.

Sakura was forced to concede. But a part of her was curious. She picked up her work and walked around to Sasori’s side of the table. She was now inches away from Sasori and could even smell her. Sasori smelt clean, of wood shavings and oil paints. Sakura inhaled deeply, and then clamped her wood into the vice. Sasori leant sideways, and let the light shine across her face. Her cheekbones glowed in the afternoon sunlight.

Sakura swallowed, and focused back on sawing. Back and forth, back and forth. And yet even so, she could not help but steal glances sideways at Sasori from time to time. She wondered what had brought on this change of heart.

Sakura felt disappointed when she had to release her wood from the vice and move over to her side of the table to sand it down.

“What are you working on?” she asked, glancing back over at Sasori, once she had settled back in her seat.

Sasori’s eyes flittered up. “My project.”

“But what is the project?” asked Sakura.

Sasori was quiet for a while, and Sakura thought she wouldn’t respond. But then Sasori gave a small, wistful smile. “It’s a doll’s house.”

“A doll’s house?” Sakura raised an eyebrow. That was the last thing she expected Sasori to make.

“Yes,” replied Sasori. A red tinge was slowly developing in each of her cheeks. “Last term I made a puppet theatre…it’s actually still in the storeroom as I can’t fit it on top of Hiruko. Hiruko’s my motorbike.”

Sakura stopped sanding, and gazed at Sasori. “I like your motorbike.”

“You…you do?”

“I always see you driving along the road so fast, you look so confident,” Sakura laid her wood and her sanding paper down on the table, to gaze at Sasori.

“Hiruko is my pride and joy,” admitted Sasori shyly.

Something about Sasori seemed to open up, seemed to bloom, like a red rose. Sakura if wondered maybe she’d cracked the shell, if Sasori was simply shy. The room flooded with warmth, although whether it was from the grating machines, the sunlight, or something more sentimental, she couldn’t tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww, is Konan right? Does Sasori like Sakura?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasori has an accident, and Sakura steps in to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally back to update before I restart work XD
> 
> There's some hospital scenes in this chapter, as well as some very incorrect first aid care. :O
> 
> Btw...Mela San is the fem!version of the Third Kazekage. She's the local MP and Sasori's biggest girl crush!

There was a strange pain in Sasori’s chest. She lay on her side that morning, gazing at the row of picture frames that lined above her bed. There was a picture of her mother when she was Sasori’s age, wearing her prom dress. Long dark hair tumbled over her slender shoulders, and the material of the dress fell in silky waves to the floor. Then there was the picture of Sasori as a tiny baby, wrapped in a pink swaddle, held between her parents.

That was Sasori’s favourite.

The sun rose later and later in the mornings now. As it grew brighter in the room, and fingers of light fell upon the collections of dolls and puppets that lined the shelves, Sasori knew she had to get up. The aching in her chest still did not cease, even when she tried to distract herself with thoughts of class, and only intensified whenever she thought about woodwork. Was this because of her project, where she would complete her masterpiece? Sasori had planned it for years, and such an ache had never plagued her then…

Maybe she needed a visit to Konan.

The alarm rang. Sasori clamoured up, and began to dress for the day, picking black jeans, boots, and another plaid shirt. She pushed away any skirts, knowing they weren’t practical for driving Hiruko.

Downstairs, Sasori helped herself to jam on toast, ignoring the lunch that Granny Chiyo had left for her. She would buy something in the supermarket nearby at lunch time.

The sun had just risen when Sasori left the house, but the light was brilliant and blinding. Sasori blinked, pulling down the visor of her helmet.

“Be careful this morning, Sasori!” called Granny Chiyo.

Sasori froze still.

“The light is blinding and there’s wet dew across the lane,” she warned.

Sasori ignored her. She had been driving Hiruko for a year now, and knew how to control a motorbike. There was nothing Granny Chiyo could say to her that would help. And Sasori didn’t want to talk to her anyway.

Instead, Sasori clamoured on the motorbike, revved the engine, and speeded out of the driveway, down the lane, and was in fifth gear before the house was out of sight. Sasori didn’t care how fast she was travelling, she knew what she was doing and the road was hers. And if anyone got in the way, that was their own fault, and Sasori would laugh at them.

Sasori joined the main road into the school town, signalling left and shooting around the bend in third gear. A car tooted but Sasori stuck up her middle finger, before speeding through the middle of the traffic.

She overtook Konan’s car, as Konan leisurely made her way towards the school. Sasori imagined Konan sitting calmly behind the wheel, dark glasses framing the increasing circles below her eyes.

Soon, Sasori caught level with the school bus. She sighed, hating it on sight for its slow chugging through the traffic. The bus made everybody stop and start, stop and start, and it just wasted time. Before Sasori got Hiruko, she also had to sit on the bus, and what should have been a twenty minute journey, took over an hour because of how many stupid kids it had to pick up.

Sasori overtook the bus, and suddenly she was free from the traffic. She sighed with relief, enjoying the clear road, the sensation of the wind rushing against her body.

Up ahead, a pedestrian jogged along the pavements. Voluminous navy hair had been scraped back into a bun, and even in the October chill of the morning, she wore a pair of tight-fitting running shorts. Her defined abdomen was bare, and she wore a loose-fitting sports bra.

Sasori knew exactly who she was, and her heart beat faster as she drew nearer. She slowed the motorbike, forgetting which gear she needed to be in, as she stared. There was a slight chill in the air, and against the material of the sports bra, bouncing up and down to the pace of her jog, two taut nipples protruded-

The next thing Sasori knew was that she was flying through the air, landing with a smack on the pavement.

* * *

The bus had just turned the corner when Sakura, sitting at the front, witnessed Sasori flying forwards through the air and collapsed on the pavement. She immediately screamed, and the bus driver slammed on their breaks. Sakura scrabbled off and rushed down towards where Sasori lay.

“Are they all right?” the woman asked, interrupting her jog, and bending over Sasori. A look of recollection dawned on her as she caught sight of red hair peeping out the helmet. “Oh my goodness! Its Chiyo’s girl! Sasori, are you all right?”

Sakura huddled beside Sasori, and scanned over her body. Sasori’s chest was heaving, she was definitely still breathing. Sakura lightly lifted the visor. Sasori’s eyes were lidded, but they usually were. Sakura exhaled a sigh of relief. That was a good sign. Now she had to check and see if Sasori was conscious.

“Sasori, are you with us?” asked Sakura. She reached for Sasori’s hand. “Squeeze if you can hear me.”

Sasori squeezed.

“Poor dear,” fussed the woman. She reached forwards, and tugged at the helmet.

“Leave it on!” cried Sakura, but it was too late.

Sasori had a nasty bump on her forehead where she had hit the ground, and a scraped chin. The woman cradled Sasori to her chest, rubbing her hand over Sasori’s shoulder.

“You know her?” asked Sakura.

“Family friend,” said the woman. A few unruly wisps of navy hair escaped her bun and fell across her face. “Mela. And you?”

“I sit next to her for woodwork,” mumbled Sakura, realising that it sounded so mundane, that it didn’t serve to describe all the feelings that Sasori roused in her. She set her head back, and swallowed. “Sasori needs to be checked over. We should take her to A&E. I have my mobile, I’ll call for an ambulance.”

“There’s no need, it will take two hours for the ambulance to even get here. My car is just around the corner. I’ll drive us,” decided Mela.

“That’s not safe, Sasori shouldn’t be moved unless by professionals!” protested Sakura.

“I don’t think Sasori would like to wait,” said Mela. She glanced down, and stroked Sasori’s hair from her face. “Can you stand, Sasori?”

Sakura helped Sasori to stand along with Mela, and then slowly made their way to Mela’s car. Mela helped Sasori into the backseat, and then Sakura clamoured in after her. Briefly, she thought of calling the school, but Sasori suddenly whimpered and her expression crumpled as they passed by the scene of the crash. “Hiruko…”

“Don’t think about that for now,” said Sakura. “We can fix it.”

Sasori laid her head back against the seat, and furiously blinked. Sakura stared, wondering if those were tears threatening to burst beneath Sasori’s lashes. She inched closer across the car, and laid her hand over Sasori’s.

At A&E, Mela helped Sasori out of the car, with Sakura following. Mela strode through to the front desk, her stride purposeful and authoritative. She announced their presence to the front desk, and then they were instructed to take a seat, for Sasori to be triaged, and then sent through to be examined by a doctor.

Sakura helped Sasori to a seat in the waiting area, letting her lean her head on her. She was a little concerned that no one seemed to be taking a head injury seriously, especially when Mela turned back from the front desk and held out an ice pack for Sasori.

“Why aren’t they rushing us through?” asked Sakura.

“Because they’re already rushing those people through,” Mela pointed at a set of swinging doors as a frail elderly woman lay on a stretcher. “They’re at full capacity. There’s people lined up in stretchers out in the corridors.”

“But that’s…that’s horrible,” Sakura’s expression fell.

Mela stared coldly at the swinging doors as nurses rushed another patient through. “That’s the reality of government cuts.”

“Sasori has a head injury,” protested Sakura. “They can’t keep us waiting. She probably has a concussion, but she needs a CT scan to confirm it. There could be internal bleeding.”

Mela gazed at her curiously. “You’re quite the little medic.”

Sakura took the ice pack, and laid it across Sasori’s forehead. After ten minutes, Mela stood up, and paced outside on her mobile. Sakura presumed it was something to do with work, or maybe even telling Sasori’s parents what had happened.

“Are you all right, Sasori? Anything you need? Anything you want?” asked Sakura.

Sasori shook her head, sinking down to lie her head in Sakura’s lap.

“How are you feeling?” asked Sakura.

“Dizzy and sick,” mumbled Sasori.

Panic really began to set in. No one seemed to be coming, no one even seemed to bat them a spare eye. Sasori was simply curling in on herself, closing her eyes tightly, squeezing her hands together. Sakura’s heart skipped several beats, even as Mela returned.

“Should we call her parents?” asked Sakura.

Mela looked surprised. “Don’t you know?”

Sakura gazed back. “No?”

Mela gave her a pitying look. “Sasori doesn’t have parents.”

* * *

Everything that happened around her seemed to be happening in a different dimension or reality. Sasori felt like she was at the bottom of a pool, while the conscious talked above her. There was Mela, clicking off commands, her calm voice ringing through the rushing water in Sasori’s ears, and then there was sweet flowery perfume, Sakura, her gentle hands holding a cool idea pack to the throbbing bruise on Sasori’s forehead.

Each miniscule movement made Sasori spin horribly, and so she lay as still as possible. She knew she was in hospital, the banging of the swinging doors ringing in her head, but when she would be seen or treated, she didn’t know. Cold dread began to curl in Sasori’s stomach, the lingering long wait painfully gnawing at her insides. She felt the soles of her feet itching nastily, her bones felt as if they were jumping right out of her skin while she lay rooted to the stop.

Hiruko…

Tears threatened to spill. Sasori blinked them back furiously, even in the throes of confusion and pain, determined not to cry in front of Sakura and Mela.

Minutes passed, but to Sasori, they seemed like hours. Hours felt like years, and when Mela and Sakura roused Sasori to go through to the triage room, the sick feeling in her stomach has risen up her throat, into her gullet, was forcing its way through.

Sasori gave a few short gasps, and her eyes opened wide.

The next thing she knew Sakura shoved a cardboard bowl beneath her chin and Sasori retched, vomiting straight in. Mela patted her back, murmuring words of comfort. Sasori was too disorientated to feel embarrassment now. Questions were fired at her, speaking answers was too hard, shaking her head made her spin again.

Sasori let Sakura and Mela answer for her. The next thing she knew, she was being loaded onto a stretcher, and wheeled down the corridor, before coming to a halt. There were two other stretchers in front of her, and she heard the nurse mention something about waiting for a bed. Sasori began to feel sick again, at the thought of waiting even longer, and now in a rushing corridor with lots of strange other people, and Mela standing over her.

Sakura leant forwards. “Do you want anything, Sasori?”

“Home,” Sasori choked. “I want to go home.”

“You need a CT scan, dear,” said Mela. “You’ve got a concussion. Shall I call Granny?”

 _Granny_ seemed such a cringeworthy thing to refer to the old bat, and coming from Mela’s lips was mortifying, especially considering the reason Sasori had flown off her motorbike in the first place.

“No,” spat Sasori.

The next thing she knew, her stretcher was wheeled down the corridor, and she was transferred onto a bed. Sasori hoped it would be quieter here, but there were more patients stacked in beds, some moaning loudly.

Mela snapped shut the curtains around Sasori, to give her some privacy.

“The doctor is on their way, honey,” Mela tucked a blanket up over Sasori’s waist. “The triage nurse said she thinks you have a concussion. How are you feeling?”

“I know she has a concussion,” muttered Sakura, with such an authoritative tone and air of annoyance that Sasori couldn’t help but love her.

“Do you mind if I go and look for a coffee machine?” asked Mela.

Sasori shook her head, and Mela left Sasori with Sakura.

“Here,” Sakura leant forwards, and held out a plastic cup with a straw. Sasori leant forwards, and sipped at it. After Sasori had enough, Sakura laid it back down on the table next to the bed. Sasori felt her take her hand, and rub warmth into Sasori’s fingers.

“You’d be a good nurse,” murmured Sasori.

Sakura smiled, her smile somehow managing to break through Sasori’s dizziness.

“Doctor,” she corrected. “I want to be a doctor.”

* * *

Finally, someone arrived to take Sasori for her CT scan. The dizziness had slowly subsided now, and all Sasori wanted to do was sleep. She felt herself being submerged in a dome, and remembered the last time she had been enclosed in such a space. Sasori felt a blackness swallowing her all up, and mercifully, blacked out before she could remember anymore.

It was dark when Sasori returned to the ward. Sakura sat with her hand in hers, one of her thumbs lightly rubbing in a pattern. The thought that Sasori had lost an entire day was disconcerting.

“I’ve spoken to your Granny, Sasori,” Mela leant over. “She’s coming to meet us and then I’m going to drive you home.”

“Drive her home? In this condition? Sasori needs to be kept in and observed overnight!” protested Sakura.

“There’s people who need Sasori’s bed more,” said Mela. She stroked Sasori’s red hair. “It’s a concussion and Granny will be able to take care of you for that.”

Sasori burrowed under the blanket, and gazed at Sakura instead. Sakura still held Sasori’s hand, and surprisingly, Sasori didn’t mind so much. Sakura’s hands were warm, but not uncomfortably so. Her nails were round and filed, just the way Sasori kept hers. And the circle that Sakura rubbed was very comforting. Sasori liked it.

She was settling into a warm doze when she heard the familiar waddle of Granny Chiyo’s footsteps. Sasori tensed, and burrowed further under the blanket. She wished she could stay here, with Sakura holding her hand, Mela sitting watch, but knew that the time would come where she had to return to her grandmother’s. There was no way she could drive her motorbike to Konan’s now.

“Sasori,” scolded Chiyo, as Sasori felt her eyes on the back of her red head. “I warned you to be careful this morning.”

Sasori rolled her eyes.

In front of Sasori, Sakura’s green eyes widened. “You’re Sasori’s grandma?”

Chiyo took an intake of breath, as she seemed to startle. “Oh, it’s you, Sakura dear.”

Sasori lifted an eyebrow.

“I see you every weekend buying cookies for your granddaughter, I didn’t realise it was Sasori!” exclaimed Sakura. She glanced down and beamed at Sasori. “You’re so lucky to have such a caring grandma.”

Sasori stayed very silent, and very still, wishing the blanket would swallow her whole.

“I wish my grandma was still around to give me cookies,” announced Mela.

Sasori squeezed her eyes shut.

“Well, let’s get you discharged and on our way home,” said Mela, patting Sasori’s hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope Sasori makes a swift recovery!
> 
> I wonder if she has a refreshed appreciation for Sakura...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura visits Sasori after the accident, and the two grow closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update (like Sasori's height) from me today! But hopefully shows the girls getting closer <3
> 
> Also...there is some penis shaming. Poor Sasuke XD

Woodwork was strange without Sasori at school. Sakura knew that she was at home where Mela had dropped her off with Chiyo to recover, but it still felt weird using the vice and the other equipment without being glared at under long lashes. Sakura missed that glare. She hadn’t really seen eyes like Sasori’s before, that mousy mix of grey and brown. And the red hair. She liked the red hair.

“Hey, Sakura,” said Mr. Yamato, approaching her desk as the bell rung and everyone else dashed out to catch the bus. “I don’t suppose you’re going to see Sasori at any point, are you?”

“I…” Sakura trailed off. She likely wouldn’t, but then remembered that at the weekends she did see Chiyo from time to time. “I might see her granny?”

Mr. Yamato’s face relaxed into a smile. “Well, that’s good. I was wondering if you’d be able to take some classwork to her? I don’t want her falling behind, I know she’s so passionate about her projects and she needs to get her grades this year if she wants to go to university.”

“Sure!” said Sakura eagerly. Maybe that meant she could go directly to Sasori, and that she wouldn’t have to wait so long to see her either. Sakura accepted Sasori’s schoolwork from Mr. Yamato, and then ran to catch the bus herself.

Ino had saved her a seat, while Deidara leant over the seats, trying to show Ino his art project.

“It’s ugly, stupid, and no one at home is going to look at it,” said Ino firmly, her arms folded and nose in the air.

“Mum will!” insisted Deidara. “She’ll like it!”

“What, like hang it on the fridge door?” asked Ino. “I can see it written in magnetic letters now. Ugly crap, by Deidara, age seventeen.”

Hidan exploded with laughter. “Ugly crap, by Deidara, age seventeen!”

“Shut up!” screamed Deidara. His ice blue eyes looked close to tears.

Sakura sat down by Ino, and glanced at what Deidara had made. It wasn’t _that_ bad, but Sakura wasn’t quite the artist. Sasori definitely wouldn’t have liked it.

“It’s very…colourful,” said Sakura. She decided to cut straight to the point, and ignore the argument. “Hey, do any of you know whereabouts Sasori lives? I have some classwork to give her, I don’t want her to lose out.”

“Oh, she’s the last stop of the bus before it goes back to the depot, yeah,” said Deidara, tucking away his project sadly. “She lives down this long country lane and it’s this cottage that’s bigger than it looks, with a pond in the back. It’s like a proper cold cottage! Like you’d see on _Escape to the Country._ ”

“Why are you watching _Escape to the Country_?” asked Hidan.

“…my parents watch it,” mumbled Deidara. “Why do you even know what it is?”

“My parents also watch it!” argued back Hidan.

“How will I know when I’m at Sasori’s house?” asked Sakura.

“You’ll see weird dead puppet corpses stuck up along the gate,” added Deidara helpfully.

“Maybe I could just have the house number?” asked Sakura.

Sakura felt weird walking up the pathway to what could only be Sasori’s house. There was a pond, as Deidara described, and some very weird figures propped up in the garden, but they weren’t corpses thankfully. Sakura was relieved to see that they were more like scarecrows.

She knocked at the front door, and then waited.

There were the sounds of small feet shuffling, and then the door swung wide to reveal Sasori’s grandmother. She wore a long skirt, slippers, a cashmere tunic, and a shawl over her shoulders.

“Is Sasori there?” asked Sakura.

Chiyo seemed to brighten up at the sight of her. “Sakura, dear! Of course, come this way.”

Sakura followed Chiyo through the cottage. It was definitely cosy, but the décor was certainly more suited to an older lady than a family home with a teenage girl. Sakura wondered how Sasori must feel, living here, almost like a part of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.

“I’ll leave you girls to it,” said Chiyo, before quickly shuffling to the back of the house.

Sasori lounged on the sofa, burrowed under an old crotchet blanket. The television buzzed, but Sasori stared through the screen. Her expression was still vacant, but she seemed a lot more alert than she had been in the hospital.

Sakura knelt in front of Sasori. “Hey, how are you doing?”

Sasori lifted her head up off the pillow, taking in Sakura’s arrival. Her red hair shifted, falling into her parting, revealing a large kidney shaped bruise on her forehead. “Sick and sore.”

Sakura couldn’t help but stroke a red lock of hair away. Surprisingly, Sasori didn’t flinch, but seemed to quiver beneath the contact.

“Mr. Yamato sent you some work to do,” she explained, knowing that Sasori wouldn’t want to wait to find out why she was here. “Is your Granny taking care of you?”

Sasori’s eyes travelled past Sakura, and when Sakura turned around, they alighted on an empty mug of tea and a plate of crumbs. Sakura thought she recognised the crumbs from a certain type of cookies.

Sasori swallowed. “Sure.”

Sakura bent closer. “Don’t you like her?”

“Shut up,” snapped Sasori, but then she winced, and held her hand to her head.

Sakura ignored her, and climbed up, wandering around the room. There was a picture of a red-haired man and a dark-haired lady, each holding a bundle of blankets between them. Red hair sprouted out of the blankets, and as Sakura squinted closer, she realised it was Sasori, looking exactly like she did burrowed in the blanket now.

“That’s you as a baby?”

“No, my twin brother, Herbert,” retorted Sasori sarcastically.

“Then who’s that?” Sakura pointed at the next picture, of a surly, sulking Sasori wearing a pink frilled dress.

“I told Granny to burn it,” scowled Sasori.

“You look cute,” said Sakura, thinking to herself that she wouldn’t have minded wearing the pink dress now.

“I look disgusting,” Sasori rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, her fingers working through the holes in the crotchet blanket. “Don’t stand gawping at them. What did Mr. Yamato send?”

Sakura plonked down next to Sasori and picked up the work. “Your assignment for half term,” she explained. “It’s next week, so you’re kind of missing two weeks from school.”

Sasori shrugged. “I won’t miss it.”

“Why don’t you like school?”

“It’s boring,” said Sasori.

“Why’s it boring?”

“Do you ever get that feeling that you have all these thoughts and these ideas whirling around in your brain, but you can’t ever act on them because someone is demanding you do all these dull, pointless tasks?”

“Ahhh…” Sakura trailed off, thinking about biology class when they often had to stop before they got to a good piece of interesting information. “Sometimes. Yes.”

Sasori snuggled back against the sofa, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. “That’s school for me.”

There were still things that kept school interesting, or at least enjoyable for Sakura. “What about your friends?”

“What about them?” asked Sasori. “What about yours?”

“Ino’s my best friend,” said Sakura. “But I love Naruto and Sasuke, they’re like my brothers.”

“How cute,” crooned Sasori. “I thought Sasuke was your fancy boy.”

“I dumped him,” admitted Sakura.

“You dumped him?” Sasori startled. “I thought it would be the other way round.”

Sakura brushed aside any insult from the comment. “Well…that’s when I realised.”

“Realised what?”

“That I don’t actually like boys.”

“Oh,” said Sasori.

“They’re all right to be friends with,” said Sakura. “But kissing him felt weird. And then whenever he was…ahem…naked.”

Sasori’s eyes narrowed. “You had sex with him?”

“His dick looked like a pencil.”

Sasori suddenly screamed with laughter, shoving a cushion over her mouth.

“It’s not funny!” Sakura blushed, wishing she hadn’t said a word. “Please, don’t tell him. Or anyone else. But when I saw it…I felt a bit sick. I didn’t want it near me.”

Sasori muffled her laughter into the cushion, before lifting it. “Not to worry. My granny is outside. I wouldn’t want her having a heart attack.”

Sakura grinned, realising she could change topic and launch a second attack. “So you do care about granny.”

“Can we not talk about granny?”

“Why? I think she’s nice. She’s one of the politer customers,” Sakura settled properly on the sofa, crossing her legs and turning to face the other girl, perched by Sasori’s feet. Sasori was barefoot beneath the blanket, which made her seem younger and more vulnerable. Sakura couldn’t help but notice Sasori’s toenails were filed and rounded off neatly, like her fingernails.

“She’s not…” Sasori broke off. “She’s not my mum. Or my dad.”

“Do you miss them?” asked Sakura. She knew she would miss her parents if something happened to them. The thought was completely unbearable. The haunted look in Sasori’s eyes seemed to make sense.

“Every day,” admitted Sasori.

“I’m sorry,” said Sakura.

“It’s not your fault,” said Sasori, even as her fingers curled into the blankets.

Sakura wanted to reach over and take one between her hands, and squeeze Sasori. She looked like she needed holding.

“What are…what are you going to do about Hiruko?” asked Sakura.

Sasori’s face looked like it was about to crumple. “I don’t know. Hiruko was completely written off. Mela even went back to retrieve it, but it was too late. I suppose I’ll have to save up and get another one.”

“Oh,” Sakura’s shoulders sagged. “I liked Hiruko.”

“So did I,” said Sasori, her long lashes quivering. “I wanted a motorbike since I was a kid. I saved for years.”

Sakura decided to change topic again.

“Has anyone else been to see you yet?” asked Sakura.

“Hmm…” said Sasori, lifting her fingers. “I don’t know. I can barely remember. I’ve been asleep most of the time. Granny said people have bought presents, but I haven’t seen anyone. You’re the first.”

Somehow, that made Sakura happy. She turned away so Sasori didn’t see her happy flush, or her smile, and then turned back when she was confident the moment had passed. Sasori looked wanly happy, still dazed with sleepiness and concussion, but as happy as Sakura had ever seen her. And Sasori never looked happy.

“Can I come and see you again?” asked Sakura. “Mr. Yamato and your other teachers will have more work for you. I can bring it to you. And maybe in half term, I could come over and we could work together?”

Sasori looked thoughtful, and then nodded slowly. “Sure.”

Sakura reached over and squeezed her hand.

Sasori didn’t recoil away.

She squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww! This was a touching chapter to write!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comment below and let me know your thoughts? If this fic proves popular I may continue it! <3


End file.
